Pick A Star
by JennyLD
Summary: Formerly Prolouge. What if decisions made during and after TGitF lead to Rose and Ten parting ways? And who is the mysterious stranger that Rose follows home? Has she really fallen in love with someone else or is something more sinister going on?
1. Moving On

She had met him shortly after the whole Pompadour incident and without hesitation followed him home. It was probably the most reckless thing she had ever done, even more so than any of the countless trips in the Doctors' little blue box, but she wasn't exactly in the most sensible state of mind now was she?

He was simply _there_, leaning against the side of the Tardis, nonchalant and yet expectant, as though he had been waiting for her. When the dematerialization sequence started he didn't even flinch, just shifted slightly as if he knew it was about to disappear into thin air. It was like he knew what was coming...and she realized later, _much_ later, that warning bells should have rung inside her head.

There was something about him though, something that drew her to him, in the same way she had first been drawn to the Doctor. Maybe that had been her downfall and the reason she ended up throwing all caution to the wind…she felt as though she could _trust_ him. Of course her highly charged emotional state had not helped matters any.

Her soul, still raw from the unending onslaught of emotions that had cut through her very being needed _something_, and somehow he had provided that which she would have thought impossible.

Within minutes of their seemingly chance encounter she began to forget…


	2. Standing Still

For the first time in a very long time, he found himself alone -- not just companionless, Rassilon knows he had suffered through that experience before -- but utterly, totally, and completely alone.

Exactly how long had she been so quiet?

He could not remember the last time he had heard her familiar hum much less her soothing voice, which was always able to penetrate the darkness of his mind. Losing Rose had been bad enough but this…this was unbearable. Never before had he found himself bereft of her presence. Oh, she had been angry with him a time or two in the past, he had been zapped enough to know that. This was something wholly different and worse, so much worse.

He should have expected it, really; Rose had seemed to be her favorite companion after all. His, too, he had to admit. Not like it made much of a difference anymore. Rose was gone now and nothing he said or did would change that.

_She_ felt however, though her reasoning was beyond his comprehension, that he could have prevented this _somehow_.

And his Tardis was quite good at holding a grudge.

It was not going to be easy to forget this time.


	3. SS Madame de Pompadour

It wasn't hard to do really…forgetting, that is.

Before she knew it, the events that had led up to her falling in love were nothing more than a mere whisper floating around in her memories. How very strange, she thought, to forget what had once seemed so monumental. Now? Now those events were no more than a trivial nuisance she felt the desire, no the absolute need, to obliterate from her mind completely.

She convinced herself it had to be the _wrongness_ of everything she had experienced up until this point in her life. Yes, it was simply the wrongness of everything past, and the rightness of this...of him and her, of them.

She knew it was time to let go, let go of _him_ and all they had once had together, or rather all she once _hoped_ they would have someday. Nevertheless, in spite of these newfound revelations and an iron resolve to forget, she found her thoughts wandering back unbidden, reaching out, grasping for those memories just beyond the reach of her consciousness…

_Flashback_

He was looking at her with those eyes, those eyes that could lay a soul bare for the taking. His taking. It was subtle yet overwhelming; all darkness and light, life and death, pain and comfort, joy and sorrow. To look into those eyes was to lose yourself and find yourself all at the same time. The man was one contradiction after another, but it didn't matter because once you yielded yourself to that gaze it all made sense.

Everything made sense.

Or at least that is how Rose imagined it would feel, if only _she_ was the object of his desire. She wasn't though. Apparently, she did not tickle his fancy like that, not like Reinette did. Her heart was breaking and all she could do was sit back and watch as he lost _his_ hearts to a woman he would never have, could never possess.

Standing there watching Reinette through the time window, Rose realized that she pitied the Doctor and yes, her, too: this rare beauty of exceptional intelligence, the poor, uncrowned Queen of France. His presence in her life would be fleeting at best. While mere hours passed for them, his companions and him, the years flew by for her. An entire human lifetime gone in the blink of an eye, and suddenly Rose thought she understood, truly understood, the torment he must suffer watching all around him "wither and die."

She understood, too, what it was like to love someone from an uncrossable distance. In fact, she thought she probably understood it better than he did, better than he ever could. Time Lords weren't as alone in the torment and misery departments as they seemed to believe after all.

As the three of them – her, the Doctor, and Mickey – entered Reinette's world for the first time together, she had the overwhelming feeling that she was walking across the pages of a history book. It was then – as she watched the way he stood so near to her, the way he leaned ever so slightly, protectively, in her direction – that an indescribable fear began to gnaw in the pit of Rose's stomach. He had fallen, fallen _hard, _and it hurt because, up until that moment, she had thought he was unwilling or unable to love in the way that humans do. She knew now that the problem lay not in his alieness but in her, Rose Tyler.

Oh God, how it hurt. It hurt so very much to know that it was someone else that had finally managed to win his love. It hurt more than she would have ever thought possible, more then Jimmy, and even more than watching her own father die.

She knew he would never reciprocate the love she felt for him and knew she had to let him go. She refused to be the jealous type, refused to act like the immature child she knew he often thought of her as. She was bigger than that, older and wiser. Yes, a lot of the growing up she had done over the last few years were on account of him, but it was still her that ultimately had to do the changing. She wasn't about to let some…some French tart undo all she had accomplished so far.

"Why her?" she implored of the clockwork man, trying, with great difficulty, to maintain some small semblance of control over her raging emotions. Trying to keep focus on what was really important – the mysterious wind-up robots threatening the life of some French aristocrat – _not_ the proximity and absolute unattainability of the only man she had ever really loved.

The slight hitch in her voice had not gone unnoticed though and, out of the corner of her eye, Rose could see the Doctor turn slowly towards her, his expression unreadable. She feared the worst, feared that he had somehow managed to read the thoughts racing through her mind. _What makes her so special to you, to _him

She knew her fear was ridiculous -- yes, he could read another's mind but, from what she could tell, he required some sort of physical contact with the person in order to do so -- still, she discovered a blush slowly darkening her cheeks and scrambled to cover up her embarrassment. "You've got all of history to choose from," her voice was wavering a bit but she kept her eyes fixed on the droid in front of her and hoped that it would be enough, "Why specifically her?"

Rose knew, no matter how hard she had tried, he had seen right through her; the Doctor was just too clever like that. Luckily, there were more pressing matters to deal with and his attention quickly shifted back to Reinette, who was firmly standing her ground.

Looking her mechanical stalker directly in the eye, she demanded with the air of a queen dismissing a mere servant that it leave her presence. If Rose was completely honest, she could understand now some of what the Doctor saw in this woman. At the very least, she had to admire her bravery.

"It's back on the ship. Rose, take Mickey and Arthur, get after it. Follow it, don't approach it, just watch what it does."

Once again a flurry of activity, he barely even glanced in her direction, and as they made to leave Rose stole a quick glimpse over her shoulder at the beautiful woman standing beside her Doctor. Perhaps 'French tart' really had been uncalled for. The poor thing had no clue, none at all. She probably had this grand idea in her head that he -- her _"lonely angel"_ -- would be with her forever. She had no idea just how unimportant she would be to him in the end, no idea just how small, miniscule even, a part she would play in his story…_their_ story. But could she blame her?

Could she really blame Reinette for falling for him, when she -- and probably countless others, if Sarah Jane was any indication -- had already done so? He was so…well, he was the Doctor. There was something about him, something that drew you in and would not let go. To bask in his presence was to bask in greatness. He was amazing, wonderful, perfect in every sense of the word and...and...

...so very unattainable.

Rose understood this and had even, she believed, come to terms with it. Reinette, however, had no idea how abruptly this little fantasy of hers would end.

Beside her, Mickey suddenly laughed.

Stopping dead in her tracks she turned and glared at him, "Wha'? Wha's so funny?"

"So, that Doctor, eh?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Well! Madame de Pompadour. Sarah Jane Smith. Cleopatra," he continued obviously unaware of Rose's rising fury.

"Cleopatra – he mentioned her _once_," she practically screamed the last word at him.

"Yea but he called her 'Cleo'."

The conversation, quickly spiraling out-of-control, ended abruptly when she felt an arm snake around her neck. "Mickey!" she screamed, but too late. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the droid that had grabbed Mickey holding what appeared to be some sort of a needle…then she felt the tell-tale prick on her neck and everything went dark.

When she awoke she found herself and Mickey trapped, captured by this latest enemy. Tied to some sort of medical table and awaiting integration into the ship. They were, after all, compatible. As if that wasn't bad enough, _he_ came back for them.

The Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, the stuff of legends…and he was drunk. Oh, not from any sort of alcoholic concoction (banana daiquiri her arse) but from happiness. Pure, unadulterated happiness like none he had ever experienced before, at least not in her presence. There was only one explanation she could come up with…he was in love.

Even after he put in place again the mask that was his emotional security system, even then she could see it. He could not hide his feelings from her as well as he thought he could. She could see through to his soul and what she saw there scared her to death. She was losing him to Reinette.

But Reinette was naively oblivious of the fate of this Time Lord, the last of his kind, destined to wander forever from place to place, alone. He would not stay here, not even for her. When the world, her world, was finally made right again, he would flee back into the night, leaving her like all the rest.

After all, he didn't do domestic and he never _ever_ stayed to pick up the pieces. These were the very first lessons he had taught Rose. From the beginning he had made sure she understood them. She _had_ come to terms with these rules, _had_ learned to accept them, accept him.

And then he broke all those rules…

"Well, we've gotta try something!"

"No! Smash the glass, smash the time windows! There'll be no way back."

Before she could even blink he was gone. Without so much as a backward glance or a word of explanation, he leapt upon Arthur and spurred him towards the mirror. He was the quintessential knight in shinning armor riding off on his trusty steed to save the proverbial damsel in distress. And the worst part was he left Rose behind, left _everything_ behind, with no way back. He had trapped himself on the slow path and secured his presence in Reinette's life forever.

"What happened? Where did the time window go?"

And he hadn't just left her, he left Mickey as well.

Poor Mickey! His very first trip in the Tardis and the designated driver takes off without them, abandoning them on a spaceship hodge-podged together with human body parts by psychotic robots who preferred that to stopping off at the nearest spaceship supply center.

How's that for garnering the poor bloke's trust? How's that for keeping _her _safe like he promised her mum he would?

No, wait, that was her old Doctor – her proper Doctor – not the new, new Doctor. As much as she had tried to believe, as much as she wanted to…

"_I'm him. I'm literally him. Same man, new face – well, new everything."_

But he wasn't the same, she knew that now. He couldn't be because _he_ would have never done something this reckless, would never have simply swanned off to save some other woman without so much as a thought for Rose's safety. Never. _He_ would have made sure she was taken care of first…sent her home in the Tardis before even considering stranding her in another place and time. That was just the sort of man _he_ was, always putting her life before anyone else's…even his own.

She missed him so much, her Doctor. Missed his big ears and that dopey grin that always sent her heart racing. But he was gone, leaving in his stead this stranger…and now even he had abandoned her.

"How's he gonna get back?"

Poor Mickey.

She was being so selfish only thinking about her own wounded pride and here he was, scared to death. She was, too, but at least she was used to this life, used to having danger follow them wherever they went. Not Mickey. The most action he'd ever experienced before this was having a few too many pints and getting sick in the alley next to the pub. And the only reason he'd really wanted to come with in the first place was her; so he could watch over her, keep her safe.

God, it was all her fault he was here. And he was one of those rare truly good blokes, too. Always treating her with respect, always there for her when she needed a shoulder to cry on, a friend to lean on, and never once did he ask for anything in return. Even lately, even after she made it clear time and time again that he just didn't measure up anymore. Even after she choose a stranger over him, and an alien one at that. Even then, he remained forever loyal to her, a faithful friend if she refused to let him be anything else.

She didn't deserve him, that much she knew. Maybe she never had. Certainly he could do better than her, find someone better than her: someone who wouldn't ignore him, push him away, and shut him out of her life simply because someone new and more exciting came along. As much as it shamed her, that is exactly what she had done. That was the way she repaid him for all those years of friendship and love.

Yet, she could not bring herself to give him even the slightest of comfort. She was too busy wrestling her own demons to try to reassure Mickey. She didn't tell him not to worry, that somehow everything would be OK, and she refused to tell him that the Doctor would be back. She couldn't, after all. She wasn't certain that he would be. She did not want to lie to Mickey about it. She just wouldn't do that to him, even if it would make him feel better.

"We can't fly the Tardis without him."

She could have reached out and offer him a comforting hand. It would be enough, she knew, to still his fears at least for a little bit. Give him a little touch or a smile and everything would be right in his world for a while. That was just the kind of bloke he was. It would be so easy, require so little effort on her part, but she just couldn't do it.

Maybe she was being selfish but she wanted someone other than herself to feel like crap too. So she vehemently ignored him and simultaneously hated herself for it. For nearly five-and-a-half hours she acted as though he wasn't even there, as though he didn't even exist.

Her patience was definitely wearing thin. She had tried to be positive, tried to hold onto the belief that the Doctor would come back, that he would just suddenly appear and hold his hand out to her. She tried to have faith in him, tried really hard, but as the minutes and then hours slowly ticked away, despair set in.

She would never talk to her mum again, she realized, or see her. Sure, she could use her mobile and give her a ring, but what exactly was she supposed to tell her? _The Doctor just left me and Mickey and we're stuck on a spaceship millions of years and miles away and you're never gonna see me again? _Oh yeah, that'd go over well.

"How's he gonna get back?"

She wanted to scream at him to shut up, wanted to slap him so he'd stop babbling on and on about it. Didn't he see there was nothing, _nothing_ she could do? She was just as stuck as he was, their only means of escape standing right next to them, useless. There was no one left who could fly it. Sure, she had done so herself once upon a time, but all memories of that particular experience were lost to her now.

Then again…maybe, just maybe...

She turned her gaze on the Tardis.

And that was when it happened; after she had finally hit rock bottom and concluded she would have to take matters into her own hands. She was prepared to, was ready to accept any and all consequences of her actions, ready to attempt to fly the Tardis all on her own – ready to leave him behind – and then she heard it.

At first she thought it must be just wishful thinking, or maybe she had finally completely lost it but…she could have sworn she heard his voice, low and quiet, as though he was speaking to her from across a great distance. That was ridiculous though, there was no way back…he'd said as much himself.

It couldn't be him.

And then suddenly, there he was, and she was running into his arms. It _was_ him! He had gone and done the impossible again. He was back, his arms wrapped around her waist, and it was pure heaven. She was so ashamed she had ever doubted him; ashamed she had ever considered leaving without him no matter if he had just done the same to her.

"How long did you wait?" 

"5-1/2 hours."

"Right! Always wait 5-1/2 hours."

"Where've you been?" 

"Explain later. Into the Tardis, be with you in a sec," he replied as he turned from her and headed back the way he had come.

It was then, as she stood there alone once more, that realization dawned on her. She _had_ heard his voice earlier but it wasn't her he had been speaking to. It wasn't seeing her again that had brought out that childish jubilance she loved so much.

She tried to hold back the tears that threatened to break free. She tried to block out those words she had heard, those three simple words, spoken to the woman on the far side of history…three simple words that would haunt her for the rest of her life…

"_Pick a star!"_


	4. JeanneAntoinette Poisson

Author's Note: First of all I want to send out a huge thanks to my beta blvdgirl for putting up with pesty-old me and going through countless drafts of this chapter. I also want to thank Fayth from whofic for content beta'ing. If it wasn't for her I would probably have scraped some of these chapter's at least once and rewritten them all over again.

_Secondly I wanted to say that this is probably the last chapter in this story for a month or more. I realize I'm not all that quick in updating anyway but I really need to focus on my NaNoWriMo writing for right now. Luckily I have the beginning of the next chapter started so hopefully it won't take me too terribly long to get that one up once November is over._

Forgetting was a luxury he had always denied himself.

The few companions he had allowed into his life would be surprised to learn that in spite of what he might say -- or fail to say, as was most often the case -- he never forgot them. Not any of them. No matter how much he might wish otherwise, no matter how hard he might wish to prevent it, their faces constantly drifted through his mind. He could not escape the taunting, the insistence that he remember _always_ those he had left behind.

Why then did he choose to continue to inflict this pain on himself? For it was his choice not to forget or repress, a choice made consciously a long time ago, and with complete understanding of the consequences.

Surely, traveling through all of time and space on his own, minus the companions he always grew so fond of would be easier: no one to become attached to, no one to miss when they had gone. Wouldn't that be better then this? Wouldn't that be better then suffering through their loss, one after another, always leaving before he was really ready for them to go? Because in the end, when they were gone, the hurt he felt was far greater than any of them could ever imagine.

And that end always came; it was inevitable. Whether they left of their own accord (a rare occurrence, but it had happened), he brought them back to where they belonged (always to protect them), or his life caught up to them and they perished before their time (affirmation that they were indeed safer without him)…whatever the means of farewell, the outcome was always the same.

He couldn't complain too much; he expected it, knew it was going to happen. It was his destiny after all to live his life alone, wandering throughout the galaxy with only memories to keep him company. He just wished they wouldn't leave him so soon, like Rose.

It was all his fault this time and he knew it. No matter how hard he tried feigning ignorance, no matter how hard he tried to pretend he had no idea why she had left, he knew…

_Flashback_

He had not planned on falling for Reinette. It went completely against his better judgment, but he had come to the realization a long time ago that some things were beyond his control. He also knew that sometimes – though very, very rarely – it was OK to ignore all the rules and just let yourself fall…and that is exactly what he did.

He could tell she was different, special somehow, even when she was just a child. Intelligent and wise beyond her years, she seemed more mature then most of the adults he had met in all his nine-plus centuries, and the fact she had shown so little fear of the monster under the bed had endeared her to him even more. What eight-year-old stares calmly at the clockwork man intent on her destruction and asks simply, _"You want me?"_

From their very first encounter, she had intrigued him. And by the third…well before he realized what she was doing, he knew he was doomed. She had grown, oh how she had grown! In just a few short moments, he had watched her evolve from an amazingly precocious child into an even more amazing and beautiful...no, _gorgeous_ young woman.

A gorgeous young woman, he reminded himself, who was at this very moment standing in front of him. No, not just in front of him but directly in front of him; so near, he could feel the warmth of her skin radiating off her body, her scent – lavender, definitely lavender – overwhelming him. He felt heady, giddy even, and knew their close proximity was a bad idea. A _very_ bad idea. He also knew, without question, that if he remained in her presence much longer he could hardly be held responsible for his actions. He needed to get out of there…_immediately!_

Unfortunately (or was it fortunately?) his body ended up being a bit too slow on the uptake and before he could respond, before he could turn away, it was too late. Her lips were on his, gentle yet crushing, and he could feel the wall, once so far away now pressed hard against his back. There was no escaping, no way to retreat. And even though he should have, he didn't care. He didn't even make an attempt to stop her because, as hard as it was to admit, it was what he wanted too. Without giving it a second thought, he kissed her back.

And then, as quickly as it began, it was over.

He watched as she rushed from the room – her mother, after all, was probably growing quite impatient – and wondered what it was that attracted him so, what it was about her that drew him in? It wasn't just the whole 'needing to be saved' bit -- though he couldn't deny he had a major knight-in-shining-armor complex (just one of many character traits that always seemed to get him into trouble) -- no, it wasn't just that overwhelming need to save her...not this time anyways.

How was it then that this lone human female had managed to find her way past all his well-established defenses? All those walls he had built so many years ago to protect _them_ more than him (he would argue) had crumbled into dust at the mere touch of her hand. How in all the galaxies had that happened?

He knew it had to be more than just the obvious: more then her striking beauty or her considerable intellect and curiosity. Though these were all traits that he loved – just as he loved the human race's strong sense of perseverance – they weren't enough; he had happened upon many in his travels that possessed these same characteristics, but never had he found the combination quite as appealing or endearing as they were with Reinette.

Mulling these thoughts over in his mind, he only half-noticed the magnificent white horse that followed him down the corridors of the derelict spaceship like a lost puppy. Yes, he saw it, knew it was there, but it just didn't pique his interest as much as the enigma that was his own emotions. Rose and Mickey didn't fare much better, though he did manage to hold an entire conversation with them before rushing off to Reinette's rescue.

Seeing her in such imminent danger was all it took to make him realize how little time there was to dwell on things as trivial as emotions, even his own. The world needed saving again, and as always, he was the only one who could provide that service. These clockwork droids, as magnificent a creation as they were, were dangerous. He just hadn't figured out the hows or wherefores yet, which was why he had to break another of his own rules, why he had to put her through it all over again…

"Reinette, you're going to have to trust me. I need to find out what they're looking for. There's only one way I can do it. Won't hurt a bit," he told her, gently placing his fingertips on her forehead.

"Fireplace man…you are inside my mind."

Maybe it was the mind link...

He had not wanted to use it, even though time was running out, for there was the undesired tendency when traipsing about in another's mind, to form a sort of attachment to them -- it was, after all, a very intimate experience. The link-ee however was usually far more affected then the link-er.

He sighed inwardly, all those memories, all those feelings and emotions…

"Oh, such a lonely childhood!"

"It'll pass. Stay with me."

"Oh, Doctor. So lonely. So very, very lonely."

In all his years, he had never made it a habit to use this particular method of…research. Quite the opposite in fact, he tried to avoid it as much as he possibly could, only utilizing it when he saw no other way, and even then it was with no small hesitation on his part. It was so very disconcerting being inside someone's head like this, seeing every single aspect of their life from their own unique point of view. It was like trespassing, theft…rape.

He had always felt like an unwanted intruder and had often wondered what it must be like for them, and then Reinette...Reinette had turned the tables on him and he hadn't even realized it. He hadn't known until it was too late that she had somehow managed to use the link to invade his own mind! Amazing!

"How did you do that?" he gasped in surprise.

"A door, once opened, can be stepped through in either direction."

And suddenly he understood. Sure, he had not felt her walking through the hallways of his mind, but once he knew that she had…his face burnt in embarrassment at the thought of it. What had she seen while she was in there? It had only been a moment or two but that was all it took, just one unguarded moment and suddenly everything that you had tried so hard to keep private was no longer hidden away.

It scared him beyond reason. Yet at the same time it excited him too. It was not as though he would have ever wished such an experience on anyone, to walk among his thoughts and memories. They were too cruel, too cold, too frightening; it would certainly have to be too much for anyone else to tolerate. It was hardly tolerable even for him! He expected her to turn and run from the room screaming at the horror of it all. But she didn't.

She didn't run and she didn't scream and she didn't even turn away. In some ways that frightened him even more.

"What did you see?"

"That there comes a time, _Time Lord_, when every lonely little boy must learn how to dance."

And despite all his objections and reasons not to, they danced…

Slowly at first, as though it were the very first time for both of them, though he knew it was technically only his first in this particular body. There was none of the awkwardness of a first dance, however: no stumbling over each other's feet, no uncertainty of where to put ones' hands. It was right and it was good and he couldn't help but laugh at the pure joy of it all.

Reinette raised her head then and looked at him questioningly, his sudden joyfulness taking her by surprise. Apparently the French didn't make it a habit to giggle while dancing; for that matter, he didn't either; but that wasn't about to stop him now. In fact, it made him laugh even more, and more still when she attempted to give him her best reprimanding look. Then, before he knew it, they were both laughing.

For the first time in as long as he could remember he felt unguardedly happy and content. He would have stayed there for eternity if he could have, holding tightly on to her and that one magical moment they were sharing. It was a moment wherein he lost himself, all thoughts of clockwork droids and friends left behind, his fate and all the burdens he had carried with him abandoned for this one instance of human closeness.

Yet still he knew...he remembered, in the very back of his mind, that this was not the lot of a Time Lord. Even the last of his kind could not be afforded such happiness. He understood that one-way or another in the end he would have to let her go. So while he could he savored their contact and for as long as possible he allowed himself to lose track of the one thing over which he could claim domination…time.

When it ended, as it had to – for there were things to do and lives to save, hers in particular –he found a certain amount of comfort. That one perfect moment they had shared together he now secreted away in his memory and saved for the day when he would need its solace once more.

It hurt though, too, losing all that was and could have been. It hurt more then he would have ever imagined, but pain was a feeling he was used to; it was a feeling he had known, would always know, more intimately then a lovers' caress.

He couldn't stay here and he knew it. As hard as it was he forced himself to ignore the look of sadness on her face; he simply didn't have the time to give her the explanations she surely deserved. There was still her life that needed saving, along with millions of others on far distant planets and in alien galaxies.

Turning from her, his mask returned, hiding his emotions from the world and all those around him.

The jovial face he showed to Rose and Mickey back on the ship had become so second nature to him he did not even have to think about it. The energy, the jokes, the almost uncaring brashness of his demeanor served only to protect him. How wonderful, he thought to himself, that they always seemed to believe it, always seemed to just trust him, even if they did sometimes question his methods.

Delving into the work at-hand helped to ease the pain somewhat. Busy, busy, busy was the way he preferred to be, so busy that you just didn't have the time to stop and think about things. But it was a defense tactic, nothing more. A defense tactic that worked so well he found himself always using it, always running from place to place or tinkering with things that simply did not need tinkering with.

He couldn't have Reinette, he knew that, but he could save her. So he did what he did best and went about figuring out the solution to her problem. Except that it wasn't as simple as that, not this time anyway.

This time it came down to an impossible decision, one that he wasn't sure he could make. He stared at the mirror in front of him, Rose's last words ringing in his ears, "Well, we've gotta try _something!_"

Could he really go ahead with this plan, his last resort? Yes, he could save the girl, the woman that he loved, but at what cost? Could he really leave Rose and Mickey behind, trapping himself in Reinette's time and forcing himself to walk the slow path with her?

He was sure he could find a way to return to them, his companions. Fairly sure even that he could manage it with little to no waiting for them (Time Lord and all) but he couldn't _really_ be certain now could he? No, he couldn't and it was simply too much to bear having to make a decision that would forever change not only his own life but the lives of so many others as well.

On the one hand, he had his responsibilities here with them. They had placed their trust in him, believed that he would always do everything in his power to keep them safe. How would they feel if he simply swanned off like that? Even if he did manage to return to them, their trust in him might be forever damaged...but on the other hand there was Reinette.

She was important; not just to him, but to France. To history. If she was to die today, what effect would her death have on the future? Sure, she wasn't some hugely important figurehead like, say, Queen Elizabeth, but he understood all too well how even the slightest change in the timeline could alter the rest of a planet's civilization forever. Could he risk that?

It was as if fate was tempting him with the opportunity of all his lifetimes, tempting him with something he never thought he'd be able to have: a normal life. The very kind of life he had always written off as too boring, too beneath him. But with her?

With Reinette by his side it might not be that bad. To be able to love fully and without restraint, to experience the simple joys and, yes, even the heartaches that defined life, to put aside all his reservations, all his responsibilities just for a little while...it was a ripe, red apple ready for the taking. His taking.

He'd been lonely for so long...

In the end, it was destiny that made the decision as much as he did.

Before he could change his mind, before he could talk himself out of it, he fell through the looking glass…


End file.
